So It Goes
by One Fine Wire
Summary: "Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt."


**So It Goes**

Snow fell from the dark, blackened skies and blanketed Hillwood, New York in its entirety. The snow was thick, hard, and clumpy, trapping people's ankles within its substance all whilst getting their feet wet and burrowing itself into the deep confines of their snow boots.

Arnold sighed, watching his breath materialize into the freezing air and sat on the front steps of his childhood home. He bit his lip anxiously and watched as the streetlights went on, resulting in young children abandoning their gloomy snowmen missing certain limbs and/or facial features without giving them a second glance, knowing that they would inevitably fall apart at some point.

The young man's green eyes wandered up and down Vine Street, whereupon he took note of the same shops from his childhood that were still there but nonetheless worn down with age. The windows were dirty and tinted, the outsides in need of a good scrub, and the roofs desperately needing repair.

It'd only been four years since Arnold left and yet it felt like an eternity. Seeing what became of his hometown and how much it fell apart in such a short timespan had been jarring. In addition, learning of what happened to his friends and of how they all went their separate ways, making no efforts to keep in touch whatsoever, felt even worse.

Yet through it all, the Sunset Arms remained clean, polished, repaired, and well cared for. The boardinghouse looked brand new, a stark contrast to the aged edifices of the city.

Arnold continued biting his lip, realizing that Sid was taking good care of it amidst his less than ideal circumstances. It turned out that he was right to have faith in his old friend, even going against his better judgment and the advice of his parents.

In fact, Sid was the only one who remained in touch with Arnold after the fallout.

It all started after he broke up with Helga. The young man thought he loved her. He really did. She was beautiful and unconventional with a wit to match Oscar Wilde. When teachers and counselors advised Arnold and his peers to think outside the box, Helga was the one who got rid of it. While Arnold and his classmates were engrossed in _Percy Jackson_ and _The Clique, _Helga read the works of Kurt Vonnegut, Harold Bloom, and Chuck Palahniuk. Her vocabulary was more expansive than Phoebe's and she was twice as creative. Helga wrote page upon page filled with complex fictional characters amidst post-apocalyptic worlds, complicated love triangles, and intricate plotlines as everyone else merely wrote about the month-old unidentifiable meat served at lunchtime in the cafeteria during English class. She listened to Elliott Smith, Jeff Buckley, and Led Zeppelin while the other girls her age remained loyal to the likes of Mandy Moore and the boys, Simple Plan. She was stubborn, strong-willed, honest to a fault when she wanted to be, and ostentatiously loyal when she felt like it.

However, the time came when her attitude became _too much _for Arnold to bear.

Arnold knew that Helga's home life was rough and he sympathized with her. He knew she acted out as a means of coping with her emotionally negligent parents and living in the shadow of her older sister's success.

Nevertheless, it _never _excused her from bullying others, including him. Arnold _hated _that she felt justified for doing it.

After all, there were people who came from worse circumstances than _she _did who_ never_ found it necessary to bully people, name call, gossip, and pull spiteful pranks on others as a means of dealing with the pain.

Lila wasn't the best example of this, and yet Arnold's thoughts instantly turned towards her as his mind reflected upon this fact. It was true that Lila liked it when people kissed her ass and groveled at her feet back during their elementary school days. She grew up though, like most people do, and was a genuinely nice person with some hidden, albeit flawed layers once you unearthed her saccharine sweet façade.

Still though, even when Lila _was _that way, she was nicer than Helga ever was or would be. Despite the death of her mother, father's brief unemployment and financial struggles, along with moving to a new city and being the new kid in class, Lila _never _resorted to Helga's bullying antics. She never stooped that low even when the girls in their fourth grade class bullied her.

Helga was the ringleader of them all. She tried her hardest to turn Lila into a cruel monster and someone to be despised. She was relentless about it, even going so far as to do things that threatened her life.

Yet she was still nice and forgiving, _especially _towards Helga.

Arnold didn't get it.

If people who had it worse than Helga were capable of being kind and compassionate, why couldn't _she? _Why was it okay for _her _to play the victim card but no one else?

The truth was that Helga G. Pataki liked playing the victim. She _reveled _in that particular role and it caused Arnold to snap.

He broke up with Helga on Valentine's Day when they were fifteen.

The two of them had been dating since the fifth grade and after the whirlwind that was their class field trip to San Lorenzo. Looking back, the young man didn't know why he stayed with Helga for so long when she was so clingy, rude, and belittling.

Arnold thought he loved her, but truthfully, he wasn't so sure.

Perhaps it was because he saw her heart at one point. He saw Helga's potential and what she could become if she allowed herself to open up to the world.

He saw her heart.

She found his parents.

Arnold kissed her right then, thanking her for reuniting him with his family all whilst proclaiming his love for her.

Helga _had _to be his soul mate, since she was the one who brought him and his parents together.

The aftermath and the first precious while of their courtship was the stuff of romance. Their eyes – hers sapphire and his emerald – lit up in the other's presence. Holding hands was akin to coming home and their smiles remained permanently etched upon their young faces.

Helga frequently quoted Vonnegut and said of the time, _"Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt." _

It didn't last, though.

It _couldn't _have with Helga's problems, especially when she took them out on other people and_ flourished_ as the victim, going so far as to treat it like an Oscar winning role.

Despite Helga's frequent visits with Doctor Bliss and _knowing _that playing the victim card was wrong, it didn't stop her from doing so.

It also didn't stop her from being possessive of Arnold and lashing out at him for the littlest, most insignificant things.

Arnold simply had enough.

He'd gone above and beyond for her on that Valentine's Day, making reservations at Chez Paris where they had their first date as nine-year-olds. Beforehand, the young man gave her roses and chocolates at school, picked out a thoughtful gift he planned on giving her that evening (a pink leather hardbound journal with purple pens), and listened to her rant about all the attention her parents were giving Olga as of late.

At the restaurant, Helga snapped at the waiter and was in a foul mood the entire time. Arnold didn't know why. Aside from her frustrations with her family, which were nothing new, today had been a good day. She'd gotten an A on her Honors English paper, aced the Algebra test Phoebe helped her study for, and her favorite chocolate pudding cups were served in the cafeteria during lunch that day.

All it took was her making a disparaging comment about Lila for him to lose it.

Glaring at her angrily, he spat, "Do you _really _have to put people down all the time, Helga?"

"What's it to you, Arnoldo?" Helga retorted. "You still like Little Miss Perfect, don't you? Why are you still with me? Am I your fucking _charity case_ or something?"

"Maybe you are," he responded coldly. "You always have to be the martyr even when you're in the wrong."

"You have _no idea _what it's like being in my shoes."

"I've been your boyfriend for _five years,_ Helga," Arnold said, his voice filled with ice. "I know you pretty damn well."

It was so out of character for the young man to be this hostile towards someone, _especially _his girlfriend, but he'd put up with it for so long and had been the golden boy who let people walk all over him for so long that it felt _good _to have the power for a change.

Being in a relationship with someone didn't mean that you let him or her walk all over you.

He'd spent half a decade as Helga's doormat and he couldn't do it anymore.

"You don't _know me, _Football-Head," Helga sneered. "Don't act like you do."

"I know that your favorite color is pink," he countered. "I know you're allergic to strawberries and that pork rinds make you sleepwalk. I know your favorite food is prime rib and that you're a total carnivore who'll eat every kind of the meat in the book save for human flesh. You're a poet and a hopeless romantic even though you do all that is possible to cover your tracks. You can schmooze like nobody's business and you care fiercely for those you love… but you also have a _my way or the highway_ attitude and you're the _most __**defensive **_person I've _ever _come across. You're also a bully and you use your shitty home life to get away with it even though people like Lila have been through _worse _than you have."

"_Get out." _

Helga's mouth was turned downward in the thinnest line Arnold ever saw, her blue eyes blazing. Her blonde locks of hair became undone from its elaborate, curled undo and fell across her face in frizzed tendrils across her face. She stood far from her chair, her hands on the table despite leaning into it looking as though she were about to pounce.

Her face was covered in red, furious patches on her cheeks and forehead. She looked as though she was ready to beat the living shit out of Arnold.

In the past, Arnold would have sat done and done nothing. He would've folded his hands into his lap and stared at them. He would've mumbled an apology and taken the fall for Helga's bad attitude. He would've been a doormat and let Helga walk all over him.

But he did not.

Not this time.

Not again.

The young man stood from his place at the table and said, _"Gladly. Consider us __**done.**__"_

He walked out of Chez Paris, leaving his food untouched and his wallet still in his pocket, not caring at all whether or not Helga had to spend the night at the police station for not paying the bill.

**XOXOXO**

It was four months before Arnold and Helga talked to each other again after their final date as boyfriend and girlfriend.

The young man returned home that evening, burning the journal and vivid red high heel shoe from the fourth grade – back when he didn't _know _Helga loved him, back when she pretended to be someone she _wasn't _just to go out with him. He threw away all their mementos from the past five years, and deleted her phone number, text messages, and e-mails.

A week later, he walked into H.S. 118 with Lila on his arm feeling vindictive and proud that he got a rise out of Helga, who watched from behind her locker as they shared a kiss, not knowing that his heart wasn't in it at all.

Arnold bit down hard and cried out upon realizing that he started bleeding. When the young man realized that he didn't have a handkerchief, he pressed his lips to the top of his hand in an attempt to stop the bleeding, but to no avail.

It remained there as a police officer walked by and chided him, "It's late, kid and the temperatures are supposed to be low. You should be inside now."

He looked up, his lip still bleeding and took in the police officer's visage – long, dirty blond hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, some scruff on his round face hiding the cleft chin that was so visible back during their schooldays, squinty pale eyes, and a nose that eerily resembled a pig's snout – it was none other than Wolfgang Ackerman.

He may have tortured Arnold and his friends during their days at P.S. 118, but now he showed nothing but genuine concern for Arnold.

Snapping his fingers, Wolfgang asked, "Are you okay, kid? Do you need me to drop you by the shelter?"

Arnold looked down at his hand smeared with blood and his worn out clothes – a threadbare, vintage Confederate army jacket covered with red and green plaid patches, a pale green shirt that was stained with coffee from accidentally spilling it on the plane ride over, worn, light blue skinny jeans with holes in the knees, and white, dirtied combat boots with red and blue interchanging laces that cascaded three-fourths of the way up to his lower legs. His hair was messy, hiding his little blue cap and he looked _exhausted _from a long day that seemed never ending. He'd spent all day connecting so many flights, ninety percent of which were delayed, from Portland to the JFK Airport and then taking a taxi to Hillwood. He got caught in traffic, resulting not only in a delayed arrival but also in the taxi driver nearly drowning him of the money he'd brought with him.

At first, he'd been grateful for choosing comfort over fashion in selecting his outfit for the day ahead. It didn't make sense to be uncomfortable whilst travelling long distances, but now the young man just felt embarrassed.

It would've been cheaper to take the subway, but Arnold didn't want to relive the memory of being stuck on one for hours on end.

The young man returned to Hillwood with the intent of checking up on the boardinghouse, ensuring that everything was in working order and in good condition. He planned on staying the night and flying out of Oregon early the next morning, not wanting to stay in Hillwood any longer than was necessary.

The trip was more for his parents than it was for him because the Sunset Arms was still under their ownership. Arnold was just doing the grunt work in their place, since they volunteered to take several of their students in the Latin American Studies major at Hillwood State University to the area for year-long study abroad program.

At that moment, Arnold realized that Wolfgang didn't _recognize _him, didn't realize that the boardinghouse actually belonged to his _family. _

Wolfgang thought he was _homeless._

Wiping the blood off his hand, but only smearing into his skin further, the young man answered, "I'm fine."

"You should still be careful," the older man advised, handing him a business card to the homeless shelter in Hillwood, "Are you _sure _you don't need a ride over?"

"I'm fine, thanks."

"Suit yourself," Wolfgang shrugged before walking down the street and out of sight, but not before he glanced back at Arnold several times before carrying on with his police duties.

Arnold only approached Helga again after Lila dumped him. He deserved it for leading her on and never truly loving, let along liking her in the first place.

Then again, he never _did_ love Helga, either.

The young man soon realized after dumping her that he kissed her only out of appreciation for finding his parents in San Lorenzo. There was no way you could know who your true love was at the age of ten – not when you still so much growing up to do, so much to learn, and so much to still experience in life. Looking back, Arnold being Helga's boyfriend was a _thank you _more than an act of genuine love.

However, he always appreciated the presence Helga had among their group of friends. Everyone began drifting apart after middle school, with everyone finding their niche with extra-curricular activities, with the exception of Sid, who began a dangerous descent into taking illegal drugs and drinking alcohol, and Helga, who simply did nothing.

Helga was still herself despite everyone else changing and Arnold liked that.

In fact, she was the first one he told upon receiving the news.

Arnold's mother and father were the kind of people who could never stay in one place for a long period of time. While they loved adventure and exploring, the young man was simply content with being a homebody and relaxing in a squishy armchair with a steaming mug of black coffee whilst listening to M-JZZ.

They'd gotten job offers to be the president and first lady at the College of Micronesia. It was a four-year post, beginning with Arnold's sophomore year of high school and lasting up through what would be his first year of university. Knowing that Arnold wouldn't like the idea of leaving his friends and hometown, his parents gave him the option of staying behind with his grandparents, but Arnold refused.

He didn't want to lose his parents again, not after what happened the first time they went away.

The young man met her down by the Hillwood Pier, buying two bags of potato chips from the repaired vending machine before they walked to its very edge.

As Arnold handed her one of the bags, he said, "I'm moving at the end of the month. My parents are going to be the presidents of a college."

"Where?" Helga demanded, stuffing her mouth with a handful of potato chips. She had never been the most graceful eater.

"Micronesia," Arnold answered. "It's just north of New Guinea."

"Sounds like it's in the middle of nowhere."

"Only on the other side of the world," Arnold said. "My family and I are stopping in San Lorenzo, first. We're going to be there for two months since they don't begin their terms until September. My grandma and grandpa are coming too."

Helga smiled upon Arnold mentioning his grandparents. She loved them.

"Who'll watch the boardinghouse?" she inquired while grabbing another handful of potato chips.

"Mr. Hyunh and Mr. Potts," Arnold responded. "They both have a reliable source of income and wlll get on Oskar for not having his rent ready in time."

"What are the odds that when –_ if_ – you come back that a headstone will be in Oskar's place?"

The young man laughed out loud and said, "I'd say they're pretty high and I'm betting that Arnie will be the one to smash him with something or other."

"I'll miss you, Hair Boy," Helga admitted, placing a hand onto his shoulder. "You were always there for me when no one else was; and even though our falling out was really nasty, I've always appreciated you being good to me even when I didn't show it." She paused momentarily before taking a deep breath. "You can always come home – come back here, to Hillwood… but you _won't. _You have better things to do than come back to a place that's falling apart."

"The city looks fine to me, Helga."

"Yeah. For _now,_" she snorted.

"Do you want to be pen pals?" he suggested. "You can keep me updated about everything that's happening here."

"There's not much to tell," Helga said. "None of us are friends anymore and Sid will be the first of us to die with that drug habit of his."

Arnold sighed. He worried about Sid and the destructive habits he picked up after starting high school. Then again, it didn't surprise him, seeing as how he descended from the poor part of Hillwood and was unsupervised most of the time due to both his parents working full-time and tacking on extra hours when they could.

The young man knew that Mr. Hyunh and Mr. Potts would ensure everyone paid the rent on time, but not when it came to relaying the conditions of the Sunset Arms; Mr. Hyunh kept himself occupied with work, playing country music at bars, wallpapering his room (he applied a new covering with a different, more obnoxious pattern every month), and making trips to visit his daughter, son-in-law, and grandchildren. Meanwhile, Mr. Potts smashed bricks and turned towards online dating as a means of spending his time.

Sid clearly needed something to occupy his time and take his mind off the drugs. Contrary to Helga's beliefs, Arnold tried his hardest to still see the best in people despite the hard exterior he put on after the bad blood came she and him, resulting in him refusing to be walked on. He knew Sid was a good guy, but misguided and easily swayed a lot of the time.

Surely if Sid had something to do, to keep his mind from dwelling on the drugs and alcohol, he'd eventually stop doing them… right?

Arnold sighed and without thinking, hugged Helga close to him. She hugged him back and didn't let go as he whispered the words, _"I'll write to you once I reach San Lorenzo. I'll send you all the letters you could ever want… but I want you to write me too." _

Helga nodded against Arnold's chest and kissed him on the cheek.

The young man opened his mouth, slightly stunned as she backed away from him and said, "I'll begin writing the reply the moment I finish reading your letter."

Helga walked away after that, turning around and waving to him once before she disappeared off into the distance, her blonde hair, pink shirt, and navy blue cap becoming smaller and smaller until they were gone.

Arnold never saw or heard from her again.

**XOXOXO**

The young man approached Sid shortly afterwards, finding him in the alley behind Mickey's Dog Pound, snorting something that looked eerily like cocaine as mandated in H.S. 118's outdated health education books.

His black hair was long, falling to his waist in matted, uncombed tangles. Several split ends dotted his hair, rendering it breakable in most parts whilst an all-black skullcap covered his head. Though thick fringes of Sid's raven locks hid the entirety of his forehead from view, his darkened, bloodshot eyes were visible. They looked haunted. Sid's long, abundant, onyx eyelashes served as an alarming contrast against his too-white skin.

His complexion was ghastly and he looked skeletal. Sid's arms were bony as well as bruised from the drug use. The skintight black jeans he wore made his legs appear brittle and ready to cave in. Though Sid's black Converse high-tops made his feet look larger than they truly were, Arnold could see his ribcage and spine through the white V-neck covering his upper body. When he spoke, two rows of chipped, stark yellow teeth greeted him.

"_What the __**hell,**__ Arnold, sneaking up on me like that?" _

"I'm moving away when school gets out," Arnold said, "My mom and dad got a job offer that's taking us away for a few years and we need someone to keep tabs on the boardinghouse. We want someone who'll keep it clean and maintained and who'll also write reports on the needed repairs and what's still working. My parents plan on getting it refinanced a few years from now and want it to be in good condition when they come back… we'll even pay you for it, too."

"So is this temporary?" Sid said. "Does this mean you'll come back?"

"For _them _it is," Arnold responded. "You'll probably never see me again after today."

"I guess it was nice knowing you, then," Sid said as he retrieved a plastic bag from his front pocket and began snorting again. "I'm not the guy you want. I plan on jumping ship at some point."

Shocked at his friend's proclamation, the young man cried out, "Don't say that! You just need help. There are people who care about you and are willing to do what they can to see that you get it."

"_Like my __**parents?**__"_ Sid spat. _"Who do you think I got this habit from? My dad's had the same job since he was eighteen because he peaked in high school and can't let the fuck go! He does more drugs than__** I**__ do!"_

"But what about your mom? She works in the government building. She went to college."

"Yeah and she's _miserable,_" Sid said. "She's wanted out of the marriage for _years _now but only stuck around because of _me, _the most pathetic excuse for a son to ever grace this ill-fated planet."

The young man sighed, grabbed his friend's hand, and said, "Come on. I'm taking you with me to the boardinghouse. We'll talk to my parents and get everything set up. This will give you something to do aside from… _that._" He eyed the bag still enclosed in Sid's other hand and knocked it out of his grasp before leading the way, their hands still intertwined together.

**XOXOXO**

Though Arnold inherited his tendency to look on the bright side from his parents, even _they _were hesitant to have Sid oversee the boardinghouse whilst Mr. Hyunh and Mr. Potts took care of the finances. It took some convincing, but they agreed to it on the conditions that Sid _not _use his salary on drugs, got help for his issues, and graduated from high school. Sid promised after meeting Mr. Hyunh and Mr. Potts, realizing that the latter would smash his brains in if he stepped out of line.

Afterward, Arnold and Sid stepped outside and onto the porch of the Sunset Arms whereupon their hands clasped together without either of them thinking to do it.

Sid released his grasp on Arnold and asked, "So what's the catch?"

"There isn't one," he answered. "My family and I just needed someone to make sure the boardinghouse didn't blow up and you fit the bill."

"You were never so _imaginative _with your words before," Sid observed, blinking rapidly.

"People change."

"_So it goes." _

Arnold balked at Sid, who laughed, and remarked, "Helga G. Pataki isn't the only one capable of understanding Vonnegut, you know; just because I do drugs it doesn't mean I'm stupid. Some of the best art and writing out there came into existence _because_ their creators were under the influence."

"No, of course not," Arnold said defensively. "It's just really beautiful… seeing and hearing you be so _profound _about things. You like Vonnegut, but you're not a bullshitter. You don't hold it above people's heads like Helga does. It's really beautiful…" The young man blushed as he felt his face and neck turn crimson from embarrassment. He gave Sid a small smile and shrugged before saying, "_You're _really beautiful, Sid... despite everything."

"Thanks, Arnold," Sid responded. His head tilted off to the side and then forward as he placed his chapped lips lightly upon Arnold's. They embraced each other and kissed and it felt _right, _so incredibly _right_ and like it was _meant to be, _even though Sid was emaciated to the point where Arnold could feel his sharp, jutted ribs against his own fit stomach and the distinct, overlarge bumps of his spine.

He never felt with Helga what he now felt with Sid, no matter how hard he tried.

When the two of them broke away from the kiss, Sid said, "In case you're wondering, my favorite Vonnegut book is _Jailbird_, but I like _Slaughterhouse-Five _too."

He kissed Arnold again before running off, bringing the young man to the realization that he_ always_ liked boys and that his dating Helga, Lila, and the girls he "liked" were just a cover-up of his true self.

It was sick, he realized, how he saw himself and _his mother _in Ruth.

Lila nurtured him like only a mother could; and Helga reunited them.

Arnold didn't need that cover-up anymore, though.

He could actually be _himself _now.

**XOXOXO**

In addition to Helga, Arnold and Sid became loyal pen pals, not just because the latter needed to keep him updated about the boardinghouse and his own personal endeavors, but also because they _wanted _to remain in touch.

The young man wrote to Helga and grew frustrated that she never wrote him back after promising to do so. After sending her weekly letters during his time in San Lorenzo, the young man penned Helga a final message, telling her that he didn't want to be friends with her anymore if she wasn't going to put anything into it.

Arnold and his family headed over to start their new lives in Micronesia shortly afterwards, only for a letter and _two _ominous packages from Olga to greet them and be the bearer of tragic news.

Helga G. Pataki was _dead._

He read the letter in complete shock, learning that she'd flown from New York down to San Lorenzo with every intent of finding him upon reading his final letter to her. She wanted to explain herself and why she never wrote to him, only to find herself dead when a fight in the heart of the city broke out. Those involved resorted to guns as a means of getting their points across and their carelessness resulted in numerous stray bullets rendering many people either disabled or deceased.

It only took one to piece Helga's throat, searing itself through her windpipe before killing her right on impact.

Her parents and older sister greeted her at the airport a few days later at the JFK Airport, but this homecoming was _nowhere _near happy.

They greeted their daughter and sister in a box and had her interred in the Hillwood Cemetery shortly afterward. The Patakis didn't plan a funeral or memorial service for Helga, leaving Arnold confused and wondering why they didn't want to commemorate the life of the precocious girl who never quite found her niche.

However, Olga took the time to clean out Helga's room, donating the vast majority of her possessions to the homeless shelter in Hillwood. She threw out whatever old items of Helga's she didn't give away, such as her younger sister's underclothing, homework assignments, old trinkets Helga never liked but kept around anyway, and anything and everything of hers that could be recycled.

The elder Pataki daughter also put the fireplace to good use. She lit a fire and threw in the countless little pink books filled with Helga's poetry and written words.

They were too painful to look through.

When she was done, the only evidence of Helga G. Pataki's life that remained were the photo albums chronicling her short life upon the earth.

Inside the two packages were thick binders filled with letters from Helga to Arnold, one for each day he was in San Lorenzo that she never sent.

The young man burned them in a makeshift bonfire on the beach, not wanting the burden of carrying Helga's skeletons around for the rest of his life.

She loved him and she her family too (proving that she had a heart _buried too deeply_ somewhere in her dead body), but felt that no one else could have them if _she _couldn't.

It explained Helga's questionable methods of getting their attention, which Lila filled him in on shortly before he moved away, such as tipping over their swan boat at the Cheese Festival knowing fully well that Lila couldn't swim and unscrewing the bolts from Lila and Olga's carriage ride in the park when they took part in the Big Sis/Little Sis program. Most of Helga's schemes were harmless, but Arnold couldn't deny that they were wrong and that she felt justified in doing them.

Helga G. Pataki played the victim card throughout her life and did _too _good of a job doing it.

The only difference now was that she actually _died _as one.

Arnold put out the fire after the binders filled with Helga's letters were nothing more than embers. He cleaned up the residue, glanced briefly at the Pacific, and walked away, refusing to turn back, embracing his freedom away from the girl who would never cease being an enigma to those who knew her, no matter how briefly they did.

**XOXOXO**

Arnold's years in Micronesia were good to him. He continued his correspondence with Sid, went surfing, snorkeling, and spent most of his time on the beach. In addition to graduating from high school, the young man took classes at the very college his parents presided over and received his Associate of Arts degree in Liberal Arts just _days_ after finishing the entirety of his grade school education.

His grandma and grandpa died three years into his family's stay on the island and he took it extremely hard. They were such an integral part of his life, especially during those years when his mother and father were still missing.

To everyone's surprise, his grandparents asked to be laid to rest on the islands versus being interred in Hillwood before their deaths.

Shortly before they died, Arnold sat by their bedsides, knowing that the two of them loved each other so much that they'd die _together, _simply because they loved each other too much. They couldn't last a moment without the other, despite his grandpa saying otherwise.

He smiled up at his grandson and said, "It's not like we'll really be _there, _Shortman. There's better things in store for Pookie and I and the best thing about it is that we won't need to drag these old sack of bones around with us any more."

The young man smiled at the memory as he continued sitting on the steps. Tasting copper and noticing that his lips were bleeding again, he pressed them to his hand once more, hoping that he could one day find a love like that and make a come back from where he found himself since leaving Micronesia.

When his parents' time as the President and First Lady at the College of Micronesia were up, they accepted positions as professors of Latin American Studies at Hillwood State University. They asked Arnold if he wanted to enroll, but he opted not to, choosing instead to take a gap year and do some travelling.

Arnold wasn't sure what he wanted to do with his life yet, let alone what to get his Bachelors degree in. He also didn't want to return to Hillwood quite yet.

The young man quickly found himself backpacking across the United States, seeing places such as the Florida Everglades, the Mississippi River, the Texan Alamo, and the Grand Canyon. He traveled from the southernmost part of California all the way up to Portland, quickly securing two jobs and a roommate/fuck buddy. He spent his days working as the cashier of an old record store and his evenings working as the stage manager of a jazz club.

He went to parties on his evenings off, but never drank or took part in any drugs. His roommate/fuck buddy, Wade Montesquieu, found it endearing. He was older than Arnold and pursuing a PhD in Design & Human Environment after receiving degrees in Ethnic Studies and Applied Ethics. He was from Ashland and descended African American, Chetco, and French parents. He wrote for a music zine in his spare time and shared the same fervent love for jazz music Arnold did. He also wore chevron and keds _much better _than most girls Arnold saw, though admitted that his roommate/fuck buddy dressed more like a hipster than he liked. Wade also showed Arnold around the city and welcomed him into his group of hipster friends, filled with Oregon State students who went camping on weekends and frequently scoured thrift stores for vintage finds.

Also, the sex was incredibly mind-blowing.

He remained in touch with Sid through it all, sending him postcards and souvenirs along the way, but found that his friend(?) was subdued and came off as being _quieter _in his letters. He didn't say a lot, except that he missed Arnold, signing his most recent letter with the same words Helga told him before they parted: _"You can always come back here, to Hillwood… but you won't." _

Those words pierced Arnold to the core in a way that didn't affect him when they came from Helga.

Wade was good to Arnold, but he was no Sid.

Sid simply couldn't be replaced.

His mother and father called days later, as though _fate itself _played a role in getting them out of Hillwood and bringing their son back to his hometown. Arnold agreed, both excited and legitimately nervous at seeing Sid again. What if they were nothing more than friends? Worse, what if they were _less _than that?

Arnold, despite asserting that he was not a doormat, still played it safe from time to time; hence his original plans of staying in Hillwood for only one day before heading back to Oregon. There was always the off chance that Sid lost interest in Arnold and moved on long ago, or perhaps even resented him for leaving. If that was the case, the young man didn't want to stay in the same place as him, _especially_ if he happened to have a guy over.

Arnold wanted to avoid any awkward encounters at all costs, but knew that sitting on the front steps was no longer an option for him.

The skies were completely blackened, he was the only one outside, and the first star had just appeared.

He exhaled slowly, stood up from his sitting position, and knocked on the old, familiar green door.

A few moments later, the young man heard steps coming towards him from the inside, accompanied by a low, deepened voice singing "Sister Christian" by Night Ranger:

_**Sister Christian there's so much in life  
**__**Don't you give it up before your time is due  
**__**I think it's true and I know it's true, yeah**_

_**Motorin'  
**__**What's your price for flight?  
**__**You've got him in your sight  
**__**And drivin' through the night**_

_**Motorin'  
**__**Night, yeah  
**__**You'll be all right tonight**_

Sid answered the door immediately afterwards and said, "I don't like girls, but I like that song."

Arnold's mouth fell ajar at the sight of the person across from him, because he looked _nothing _like the tired, damaged person Arnold parted ways with at the age of fifteen. Sid was no longer the one with the haunted eyes and the gaunt limbs and strung out on drugs like he once was.

He'd grown taller over the years and gained some much-needed weight in that time. Despite that, Sid was still rather lean, but made up for it in the muscles present in his arms, legs, and abdomen, which were seen distinctly through his light blue jeans and red shirt. His hair fell to his shoulders, no longer matted and unruly like it had been in the past, but was clean and healthy instead. He also kept it out of his eyes, revealing that his dark brown eyes seemed alert, but nevertheless content with life.

In so doing, Sid revealed his handsome face, still going through a bit of a flux between long and thin and strong and square. He'd grown into his nose and when his smile revealed teeth that were no longer sick and yellow, but not brightly white, either.

Arnold let out a nervous laugh, knowing that he looked like a complete _wreck _in front of Sid with his tired face, worn-out clothes, and bloodied mouth. He took another deep breath, allowing for Sid's name to roll off his tongue and he lunged forward, sending them both on the ground, and kissed him fiercely on the lips.

When they came up, Sid's mouth was covered in Arnold's blood, but he didn't seem to care. He wiped his mouth and said, "Let's get you cleaned up. I have hot chocolate on the stove. I bet a shower sounds awesome, yeah?"

The blond nodded as Sid grabbed his hand and led him upstairs to his old bedroom and bathroom, which were in mint condition and completely untouched, save for the times Sid went in with the duster and vacuum.

He blushed and said, "I can wash your clothes while you're in the shower if you want."

Arnold grinned wickedly, tossed off his shirt, and threw it at Sid without thinking twice.

As he stepped into the shower and ran the hot water, he heard Sid singing Bon Iver under his breath while starting the washing machine:

_**Come on, skinny love just the last year  
**__**Pour a little salt we were never here  
**__**My, my, my**_

God, he was fucking _adorable,_ Arnold realized… and so much more. _**  
**_

**XOXOXO**

Half an hour later, Arnold's clothes were in the washing machine and he donned a black bathrobe of Sid's. The two of them sat in the family room drinking hot chocolate whilst listening to M-JZZ at Arnold's insistence and waiting for the Chinese food they ordered to arrive.

The young man drank deeply from his mug of cocoa and said, "You look… _amazing, _Sid. What have you been up to?"

"Nothing spectacular," he responded. "I kept up the boardinghouse like you told me to… I graduated from high school and did a stint in rehab – if you were wondering why I was so distant for a while."

"Yeah… I – I was wondering if you were okay during all that," Arnold said. "Who kept up the boardinghouse while you were there?"

"It was a summer program," Sid told him. "I got Stinky and Lila to do it."

"What made you go? Do you still… do drugs and all that?"

Sid stared at Arnold stonily, putting down his cup of hot chocolate before leaning back in his chair with his arms folded.

Realizing what he'd done, Arnold exclaimed, "I'm _so _sorry! God, I can't _believe_ myself."

After a long, awkward pause (that the young man wanted desperately to avoid), he said, "Forgive me. I shouldn't have asked you that."

"It's fine," Sid said. "It's just that I'd been doing drugs and drinking all while doing this for a while. I got my diploma by the skin of my teeth and thought I was doing fine… that is, until my dad died a year and a half ago. He overdosed."

"I am _so_ sorry, Sid," Arnold told him, placing a hand on his knee. "It's hard losing a parent and you – and your father – didn't deserve that, no matter _what _people say."

"So you've said."

At that moment, Arnold realized that Sid was sick of apologies.

"I'm not mad at you, Arnold. It is what it is… and it's what got me to wake up and get help. Plus, I couldn't do that to my mom. Even though she and my dad were never happy in their marriage, I couldn't have her lose _two _people to drugs and drinking… but in case you're wondering – she's doing a lot better. She moved out of that dump we used to live in and got a nice little apartment next to the Zoological Gardens. She plays Bunco with a group of ladies from the neighborhood every week and is just so much _happier _without my dad around."

He shrugged his shoulders, took another swig of cocoa, and finished, "I'm taking classes at Hillwood Community College right now. I'm working toward my AA in Graphic Design, I'm experimenting with photography, and seeing a therapist twice a week. I'm still getting my life on track in a lot of ways. I'm still a work in progress."

"So it goes," Arnold purported. "I am too. We _all _are."

"So it goes," Sid repeated with a small smile on his face. "So it goes."

Another pause filled the air as they stared into the fire, not quite knowing what to say to each other or what _exactly _became of them. The only thing that brought them out of their stupor was when the doorbell rang, signaling that their dinner had arrived.

Sid got up to answer the door and returned moments later laden with two brown paper bags filled with cheese wontons, fried dumplings, kung pow chicken, lo mein, and egg foo young gravy complete with two glass bottles of _Crush _pineapple soda_._

When he placed the bags on the small table in between them, he queried, "What made you come back here? Aside from checking up on the house?"

"Why did you assume that I'd never return?"

"Because you're Arnold Shortman. You're Superman, practically and you're brilliant and meant for greater things than _this._"

Arnold stiffened and said, "Is the city dying out?"

"The recession hit us pretty hard."

"Oh," Arnold nodded, coming to the realization that he _never _should've left; not when he had someone who loved him all along. He sat there, his breath catching in his throat, wondering if Sid could ever understand why he had to leave. He asked him:

_**Would you really rush out for me now? **_

Would he after all this time?

"I'd understand if you didn't," Arnold admitted. "After all - "

_**I'm**** probably plightless**_

"You don't have to, you know," the young man affirmed. "I'd never expect you to rush out for me. I have no direction or any idea what I want to do with my life."

Instead of responding, Sid said, "The most interesting people I know are forty years old and have no fucking clue what they want. You still have a whole lifetime, Arnold. Listen, do you want to know the _real _reason why I got help? I did it because I don't want to be a _victim_ anymore."

"God, I _love _you, Sid," Arnold said, wrapping him in his arms and whispering in his ear:

_**T**__**urn down the lights  
**__**Turn down the bed  
**__**Turn down these voices  
**__**They're inside my head  
**__**Lay down with me  
**__**Tell me no lies  
**__**Just hold me close  
**__**And don't patronize me**_

**XOXOXO**

Their dinner and sodas were left abandoned on the table, the former now cold and congealed inside their white paper containers whilst the latter were now lukewarm and flat and tasteless.

The fire that once crackled beneath the hearth was reduced to blackened soot. Sunlight streamed through the windows, bathing the room in relaxing hues of orange and yellow, emanating a warm, soothing glow.

Arnold opened his green eyes with slowness, finding both he and Sid on the couch. He was on top of him and their arms were wrapped around each other's naked bodies, their clothes discarded on teh floor.

Sid looked gorgeous with his dark hair swept away from his face and he looked peaceful and serene while he slept.

Sid exuded warmness like a furnace and Arnold felt that he could stay in his arms forever.

Arnold tucked Sid's hair behind his left ear and kissed him on the forehead, mentally preparing the to-do list for the rest of his life:

**1. Call Mom and Dad; tell them I'm staying in Hillwood.**

**2. Call Wade; let him know that I'm moving back home.**

**3. Go to Oregon and pick my things up.**

**4. Enroll at Hillwood State; try to pick a major by the time next semester starts.**

**5. Stay with Sid. Forever.**

Sid woke up at that moment with a small smile on his face. He kissed Arnold and sat up before bringing him close to his chest. Whispering in his ear, he revealed:

_**I found love, darling  
**__**Love in the nick of time**_

"So we have," Arnold nodded.

"So it goes."

And at that moment, everything was beautiful and nothing hurt.

* * *

**Disclaimers:** I do not own the quotations **"So it goes" **and** "Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt"**, which were said by the author Kurt Vonnegut. The first quotation was a favorite of the late author's and the second was said in his novel Slaughterhouse-Five, or The Children's Crusade: A Duty-Dance With Death. I don't own these quotations or the book and do not infringe on them.

The following songs were used in this story:

**"Sister Christian"** written by Kelly Keagy and performed by Night Ranger.

**"Skinny Love"** written by Justin Vernon and performed by Bon Iver.

**"Blindsided"** writen by Justin Vernon and performed by Bon Iver.

**"I Can't Make You Love Me/Nick Of Time"** written by Mike Reid, Allen Shamblin, and Justin Vernon; performed by Bon Iver.

I don't own these songs or their lyrics. No copyright infringement is intended or inferred.


End file.
